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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449149">Broken Bones and Frozen Hopes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineisa/pseuds/catherineisa'>catherineisa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fills [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Blacklist (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Car Accident, Hypothermia, I would make a crash 1996 joke but this isn't that kind of fic, M/M, Raymond cares about Donnie, car crash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:20:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineisa/pseuds/catherineisa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes. keep your eyes open Donald." He must have some kind of brain injury because he hears worry in the man's voice. He's just glad he's not saying these things out loud. That would be embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>"You are saying these things out loud, Donald look at me."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Raymond Reddington &amp; Donald Ressler, Raymond Reddington/Donald Ressler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompt Fills [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Broken Bones and Frozen Hopes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoffmannism/gifts">Hoffmannism</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's hard to stay coherent when you're so cold that parts of you are numb.</p><p> </p><p>He was driving with Reddington after Liz apprehended a suspect. They'd both had to stay away, lest they be recognized and had trouble. There's was a car driving in the wrong lane and it veered and smashed into them before speeding up and driving off. Unfortunately for Ressler, the car smashes into them on the right side and he'd let Reddington drive. He'd been curious, he'd never seen the man drive himself, it was always Dembe. He'd wanted to see how well the other man could drive. </p><p> </p><p>It seems so trivial now.</p><p> </p><p>His head hits the dash and he reels for a moment before the force of the car being sent of the road send him back. He tries to raise his arm up to probe the cut on his forehead and check the damage but he can't raise his arm and trying to do so sends sharp jolts of painful static up and down his arm and shoulder. He decides against any type of movement and sits still. Then he remembers Reddington, and turns his neck to look at him, it's too quick and he feels sore but it's not the same kind of pain as his arm.</p><p> </p><p>Reddington is blinking hard and trying to figure what's happened. He looks over at Ressler and quickly cups his face and looks into Donald's eyes. He can't help but stare back. Reddington's eye are a greenish grey and in a moment of weakness Ressler can admit to himself that they are beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>They're worried. It muddles the beauty. He scrunches his eyebrows sadly, and nearly cries out. It comes out as a choked sigh and he closes his eyes, opening them again for the comfort of familiarity in the other man's face. He sees that while Reddington's injuries are less severe, he's still bleeding from somewhere on his forehead and his nose is steadily streaming blood. He wants to reach up and wipe it but he tries to move his arm again and nearly screams when he feels a flood of pain, agonizing and hears a loudish crack. The alarm is evident in the other man's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. keep your eyes open Donald." He must have some kind of brain injury because he hears worry in the man's voice. He's just glad he's not saying these things out loud. That would be embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>"You are saying these things out loud, Donald look at me."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He lolls his his toward the passenger window and then back to Reddington. Who huffs heavily and opens his door, stumbling over to Ressler's side. Reddington appears on his side like magic and pulls him out of the vehicle. He sighs like a child with a new toy. Reddington pulls him out carefully making sure the broken arm doesn't hit anything or even move. He's pulled into Reddington's side and they're stumbling together.</p><p> </p><p>"Got to get away, we don't know how bad the damage is. Last car accident I got in was so bad there was a fire which blew the gas line and the whole tank. Hot as hell in Arizona. We had to walk fifteen miles for help. Although we weren't injured then." He goes on for a bit, tell the story and dragging him. Dragging and talking. Talking and dragging. Reddington's voice is smooth.</p><p>He's explaining but Ressler can so the real purpose of it, he's trying to keep his mind from wandering. He needs to keep them safe since Ressler is completely useless.</p><p> </p><p>"No." His voice is quiet but forceful. He must still be talking out loud, he gasps lightly, or maybe Reddington can read minds. That's how he evaded him for so many years.</p><p> </p><p>"No. you're still talking out loud. You want to know how I evaded you for so long?" He holds onto Ressler's wrist as he tries to keep them balanced. He huffs in annoyance and gently sets Ressler on the ground. There's snow on the ground and it melts into his back. He feels like he's taking a shower and the hot water has run out, but he can't move to get out. It starts to get painful. Luckily Reddington comes back quick with the winter jackets he always has shoved in his trunk. He's quietly grateful that Reddington is so forgetful all of a sudden. He's always taking a jacket with him and overheating, leaving it wherever he goes. For Dembe to eventually pick up.</p><p> </p><p>Reddington picks him up under his arms and he realizes that one of legs might be broken. "It is. Be careful."  There's no way for him to possibly move anyways.</p><p> </p><p>"Can you feel anything? At all? This is worse than I thought." His voice is unreadable. Ressler tries to think whether he can actually feel anything but his mobility is very limited and he can only really feel the cold. It's like sleeping your arm and moving it but a hundred times worse.</p><p> </p><p>Reddington moves him gently putting one of the jackets against his back before putting one over his arms insulating the second from getting wet so it can warm him up.  He quickly ditches that plan and cuts Ressler out of his shirt making sure to replace it with one of the thinner jackets. He pushes him back down onto another one of the jackets before putting one over top and lying next to him. There's a shuffle and he feels the warmth of the other man's arm around his torso. He can't help but feel comforted by it. He pulls the hood up around his head. The silence unnerves him though and he can only hear the wind and the trees rustling.</p><p>"Hmm. And what do you want to talk about?" Thoughts swirl through his head but he always comes right back to one. Raymond Reddington.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm. Well for sure this is a new situation. It'll be another story for the future. Heroically saving a traveler who was in a car crash, trapped in the snow with broken bones. I'll have to cherry pick the details, though. Can't have anyone knowing you're an FBI agent, can we?"</p><p> </p><p>Assuming they survive this mess Ressler would like to pretend it never happened.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you think so lowly of me Donald?" </p><p> </p><p>Ressler can admit that there's a certain amount of annoyance involved with dealing with Reddington, but he doesn't want to admit that there's a certain amount of respect involved in chasing a man like Red.</p><p> </p><p>"Calling me Red now are you?"</p><p>Ressler makes an unintelligible noise and wishes he could filter what he's saying.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm I had a similar experience in Boca Raton. Florida is a terrible experience in and of itself but anyways. I was drugged by a very beautiful Italian woman. She wanted a location of a safe house. She'd wanted to kill someone I'd worked with, a contentious relationship or something but I couldn't help but blather about how terrible my trip was and gush about a wonderful cheese dip I had in France." He chuckles. "She ended up getting so frustrated that she threw the chair I was tied to in a not so shallow body of water. Dembe had to fish me out." </p><p> </p><p>Ressler doesn't know whether he's talking aloud and he's kind of foggy but he feels the need to talk. To clarify, to confess.</p><p>It feels like his last chance. </p><p> </p><p>"No." Reddington's voice is firm. Careful but firm. </p><p> </p><p>"Chasing you was like trying to complete a puzzle with a piece missing. It made me hate you, but it made me respect you. It felt like Cheerios. No no hold on." Ressler's frozen thoughts are catching up, but Reddington is patient. He waits.</p><p> </p><p>"It was harder, when we started working together. Or well, you working with Keen. Because I always had the urge to arrest you. I always felt like you were going to kill me but I don't anymore. Partially. I don't know why you're doing it, and I hate your methods, but I have to see it through. Or I want to." His voice lowers, if that's even possible, his voice is gravelly and the strain to talk is evident. "Not sure I'll survive this though." He forces the words out and coughs loudly, trying not to cough directly into Red's face. It's the little things, Red thinks. He feels idiotic about it as soon as he thinks it.</p><p> </p><p>Ressler shivers and Reddington pulls him closer adjusting the jackets so that they're tighter around him. He nuzzles into the man's neck trying to keep his face warm.</p><p> </p><p>"Dembe will fish us out this time. I'm sure of it."</p><p> </p><p>Ressler makes an appreciative noise, but Reddington can't tell if it's the warmth or his words. In the moment he doesn't care that he doesn't know.</p><p> </p><p>Ressler can't really think clearly. His eyes are starting not to respond to light and breath. Reddington is trying his best to stay alert and keep the man awake but he's starting to be affecting by the cold as well. His extra flank is no longer an advantage as he starts to feel the symptom of hypothermia. He knew that it would only slow it down though.</p><p> </p><p>It's an hour. He thinks but he starts to hear voices. He hopes silently that he's not going crazy. </p><p>He hears Dembe's familiar lilt and tries to move to alert them that they're here that they're alive. Even if just barely. He can't get his muscles to cooperate with him and he falls back into the ground, accidentally sloughing snow into their protective jacket huddle. </p><p> </p><p>"They are over here." He hears Dembe call his name and finally feels his hands grasping his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>"He's worse off. Help him." Dembe shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>"Raymond. You look terrible. It is my duty to see to your safety. Elizabeth can see to his."   Dembe has him held close under his shoulders. In a similar manner that he held Ressler earlier in the evening. Except no broken arm so no extra caution. It was starting to get dark and the EMT's work fast to ensure the safety of both of them. Hooking them up to IV's of warm fluid and giving them warm dry layers. </p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth is riding with the ambulance and they're all silent. Ressler is sleeping somewhat peacefully hooked up to several monitors. Reddington is sitting next to him being evaluated by one of the medics and patiently waiting for news on whether they're fine. Whether Donald is fine more like. </p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth is side eyeing him, waiting for him to say something, anything about what happened. </p><p> </p><p>She eventually loses patience. "What happened?" The medic tries to pretend he's not listening.</p><p> </p><p>"Car rammed into us. We went off the road. Almost froze to death. You know, the simple stuff." He tries to sound sarcastic about it, but he just comes across tired. </p><p> </p><p>"You were rammed by the brother of the suspect. He was paid by Obel to ram you and kill you both. They didn't know how you were connected but had a grudge against you specifically." </p><p> </p><p>"If I had a nickel for every time." He glances toward Ressler and Liz gives him an odd look.</p><p> </p><p>"Anyway. He hit his head on the wheel and had trauma that led to hemorrhaging. He died several miles from here but before he did we intercepted a message to Obel that he'd 'done the job' and killed you guys." </p><p> </p><p>"Aw. You were worried?" He tries to joke but exhaustion is taking it's toll.</p><p> </p><p>
  <s>
    <span class="u">_________________________________________________________</span>
  </s>
</p><p> </p><p>It's a week later and neither man mentions the incident. Until Ressler is trying to get coffee and his wheelchair gets stuck on one of the metal-plastic school chairs they have in the break room. He groans and tries to back up. Not being used to it is a pain. He decides the second he gets his arm cast off he's using crutches.  </p><p> </p><p>Ressler doesn't see Reddington until he walks in just then. He's sporting his usual expensive garb but he has a wrist brace poking through his sleeve. He doesn't seem very different bar the light bruising scattering his face and the cuts and bruises across his forehead and a busted lip that's healed mostly.  </p><p> </p><p>He envies the man and then regrets it. He's alive, that's enough. He doesn't  wish the pain and fear of what happened on anyone else. He breathes heavily. He's glad he didn't break his ribs, just a little bruised. He finds he needs a lot of deep breathing lately. </p><p> </p><p>"I thought you didn't see a doctor? You left quickly."  Reddington rotates his wrist thoughtfully, looking at it.</p><p> </p><p>"I have Stark." </p><p> </p><p>Ressler doesn't respond, He's not all that surprised though. He never thought of Spalding Stark as a treatment doctor, though. He wonders if Stark is a Code 77 doctor as well. Probably not. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"We need to talk. Clear things up." Ressler nods, but thinks that maybe he has different ideas about what needs to be cleared up.</p><p> </p><p>He nods. "That we do." </p><p>Reddington extricates the metal chair from the wheelchair without second glancing it. He sits across from Donald and clears his throat. </p><p> </p><p>"So let's talk."</p>
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